Hunt for The Disciple
by Erikslittleangel13
Summary: Agent Jacobsin of the FBI spend her days fighting petty crimes until a serial killer strikes again. For the second time Jacobsin is put to the test to see if she can crack the case and he is closer than she knows.What will happen when they come face to face
1. Chapter 1 rewritten

AMANDA LAVALLEY

H

unt

For

The Disciple

--CURIOSITY—

New York City, a place known for its all to busy climate. Where the air smelled industrialized, car fumes and cigarette smoke mixed in as one. People honked car horns impatiently, unknowing that they were going where everyone else was, work. To on lookers it was a pure replication of a huge chaotic mess. Morning commuters were yelling out of taxi windows, blaming cars in front of them for traffic, like it would change anything. Commuters rushed and scurried past one another, amazingly not crashing, looking like rats in a sewer. Few walked slow paced dressed in tacky clothes knowing that they wouldn't get to work on time even if they ran. Occasionally one would take out a cigarette and light it up, just adding to the cloud of fumes and smoke hazing over the city streets. Hobos hung around in their usual alley as they did every day of their poor weathered lives. Once in a while one would venture out carefully onto the busy city sidewalks and ask for food or money, only to be ignored by the business people. But that day god decided to be forgiving and shown light upon the face of a homeless woman and her little daughter. A young woman dressed in a dark fairly new business suit walked up to the two, and reached into her pocket. Her red hair was pulled back professionally, little wisps of hair still managing to escape from their hold. She handed the mother and twenty dollar bill and kneeled down to the daughter and did the same, wrapping it in her fist. Happiness radiated off of the little girl and she lunged at the stranger wrapping her arms around her tightly. The woman patted her back gently, almost getting knocked over with the force of gratitude in the little girl's hug. The woman stood and smiled at the two once more before disappearing into the New York Streets. Clara Anne Jacobsin walked through the streets with a pleased looked artfully placed upon her face. Weaving through the crowds swiftly, the commuters almost had to dodge the glow of happiness around her, less they too wanted to be ensnared by it. Satisfaction filled her fiery green eyes, satisfaction that she was able to get food into the bellies of a mother and daughter who seemed so carelessly thrown out on the streets. She kept walking unaware of a man who followed her just as swiftly, his own eyes gleaming with admiration and curiosity.

He had witnessed her giving two homeless people money and respect immediately formed for her. She was so kind and caring to people that she didn't know, and yet he knew that she was some form of authority. Not a cop though, she wasn't as stiff and square shouldered as a cop, she didn't walk around and show off her power to everyone else. She walked slyly like a fox and knew her surroundings well. She seemed to know and spot every little detail and aspect of her surroundings with those green eyes. She had to be an FBI agent. He knew what her occupation was and still he pursued her, ignoring the danger and question of whether his reputation in Italy was known of in the United States. Still he did have precautions that he took, his appearance was different and he pursued her very carefully far away enough that he could see her but not set off any alarms in her head. If she did notice his baseball cap worked good at hiding his face. He felt an urge to meet this woman, young lady, even though he knew not what their meeting would bring upon them both.

--MEETING WITH THE ENEMY--

Clara stopped in at an old dinner for lunch. The air smelled of bacon grease and eggs, and the place was hazed over with heat. As always it was just the usuals dining in. Clara sat in her normal seat, three booths from the from the front on her right side. After a few days of inspecting this seat seemed to have the best view. After a few moments the waitress came out with a cup of coffee and Clara's favorite lunch. A BLT loaded with extra bacon and a heaping side of corned beef hash. After a bit of ketchup she began to eat the wondrous food in front of her. Of course she ate slowly, wanting to admire every zing of flavor that pleasantly scorched the taste buds inside her mouth. Clara's eyes subconsciously scanned the diner for any new sit in eaters. There was just one, a man with his back to her, a blue baseball cap upon his head. Once Clara's food and coffee was gone, the waitress came over and took them from her, Clara thanking the chef for a good meal yet again as she paid the check, a ten dollar tip on the table. She left not once looking back at the diner, not even noticing the eyes that followed her.

The streets cleared up a good amount while Clara was eating, and only a few stragglers were left. The ones that were constantly late for work, not caring if they lost their boring jobs. Clara walked slowly admiring sounds of the late morning commute and the smell of the air, trying to place it into her memory for later. She was to be forced into a conference room filled with over prideful men. The smell of exhaust cigarettes and body odor was an aroma compared to the smell of twenty men wearing over excessive amounts of cologne. Clara stopped at the Dunkin doughnut and bought herself a decaffeinated coffee. She paid and left standing out on the sidewalk for a few minutes. She watched as cars zoomed by and teenagers were starting to leave their stuffy apartments for another day of high school. They hurried down the sidewalks backpacks so low that they bumped into the backs of their legs slowing them slightly. Boys with pants almost down to there knees tried to keep up and eventually failed huddling into a group together walking slowly a slight hop in their step. All of a sudden Clara was shoved roughly her coffee leaving her hand and hitting who ever shoved her. A business man stood before her, his light colored suit now held a large coffee stain across the front. His cell phone hit the ground and Clara blinked at the sound. Her coffee that had hit him also stained her pants and almost filled her shoes. Clara bent down and quickly retrieved he man's cell phone trying to wipe off the coffee on it. She handed back to the man and he snatched it out of her hand as if she was going to break it. A scowl was plastered on his etched out face. Wrinkles in his forehead showing moments of past frustration. He shoved the cell phone roughly into his pocket and bent down grabbing his suitcase off the ground.

"I truly am sorry sir," her voice was soft and musical. Each tone seemed perfect and sweet, her voice holding sincerity. Clara handed him her Dunkin Doughnuts napkin and he wiped himself off throwing the napkin to the ground.

"You betta be sorry. Next time watch where that pretty little ass of yours is going and try to stay outta my way." The business man grumbled in his filthy New York accent and stomped by shoving Clara again. She could hear him huffing and puffing about his meeting while stomping off. Clara looked at her feet and sighed, slowly bending down to get her spilled coffee cup, only to have a blue baseball cap block her view. Her small and straight nose brushed the hat slightly as she stood simultaneously with the stranger, smelling nothing but a sweet aroma of mixed spices.

"Let me help you with that miss…," His voice was smooth and deep, at the end of each syllable there seemed to be a hidden metallic tang. His accent was foreign, European. Clara listened carefully, her first guess was Italian.

"I'm Clara.. Clara Anne Jacobsin, and you are," Her voice replied with its sweet flow,

"I am Doctor Caleb Lee Ansom. Let me get that for you miss Jacobsin," Clara smiled at the kind-hearted doctor in front of her and they both stood for a minute studying each other closely. His face narrowed from his cheek bones to his chin and his nose was downwardly long and curved slightly at the end, making it look cuter. His smile seemed kind but also hinted at past secrets that, if revealed, could ruin him. His cheeks dimpled and almost seemed to swirl. His eyes were a pale blue and his hair black, the baseball cap hiding the style. His face seemed perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Clara seemed to be captivated by his eyes the most, though they were warm at the moment there seemed to be a wall behind them hiding emotions, except for curiosity. He looked to be in his late 20s early 30s right around her own age.

To him, she was the ideal young lady. Her face was oval but not completely egg shaped as one would expect at hearing oval. Her face seemed perfectly symmetrical except for the fact that the dimple in her right cheek was slightly deeper that the one in her left. Her lips were thin and yet full, the color of a rosy red. She was young perhaps entering her late twenties. Her green eyes held past memories, burdens and life choices that had hurt her, leaving a terrible scar. Her light brown hair contrasted perfectly with her eyes and pale flawless skin. It was pulled back into a high pony tail, loose wisps on each side of her face. Finally the tension in the silence was broken by Dr. Ansom.

"It seems that the man who so rudely shoved you was also rude enough to leave you here without offering a napkin or anything. Here take this and see if you can wipe up a little bit," His voice hinted toward anger inside, but Clara did not ask question. She took the hand kerchief from the man's hand and his soft finger slid over hers sending sparks up her arm. She bent and wiped her feet and legs gently, trying not to show the scar that ran from her knee to her ankle.

"Thank you, Dr. Ansom," Clara smiled at the beauty hidden in his name and shook his hand as she said it over again in her head, " For your help. It is nice to see another person who isn't a rude snob like most these days." Dr. Ansom smiled and laughed deeply sending shivers up Clara's spine. His smile showed pointed precise teeth which seemed to shine slightly.

"Yes, well I am glad that I could be of service. I really do detest rude people. When I saw that man and what he had done to you, it seemed to cook up a storm inside of me. Don't people like that just make you want to strangle um," his voice held menacing feelings and Clara smiled uneasily, questions flying around in her head, demanding some sort of answer.

"Yes well , I guess that in a way you are right, but I wouldn't kill someone over it. It's my job to find the people who do. He was in a hurry and frustrated about being interrupted. Plus he must have had an important meeting judged by the way e was dressed. He was just stressed out," For some reason Clara felt like she had to defend the man, like something bad was going to happen to him. After a few minutes of Dr.Ansom's eyes on her Clara shifted from foot to foot and felt the need to get out of the situation at hand and fast.

"Well, doctor. I should be heading out for I too have a meeting to attend too. Thank you so much for you help, I owe you one. Here is my card if you need anything. If you do just call my cell written on the back." Clara turned and walked down the street feeling his eyes on her back.

"Bye, bye Special Agent Jacobsin. See ya soon."


	2. Chapter 2 rewritten

RUDE WITH A REASON

Clara Anne Jacobsin leaned against the cool metal wall of the elevator, its soft harmonic version of a jazz tune sounding like a lullaby. It lured in the helpless and enveloped them in its boring caress. For Clara, it went in one ear and out the other, she wouldn't let herself be captured and sucked into the doldrums of the song. The loud chime hushed the music, the number thirteen flashed above in red. It was her least favorite number, she was thirteen when it all happened, when her life just started it tumble downward, down a large rocky hill. But the thoughts quickly left Clara's head as soon as they came, allowing her mind to only dwell on what she was here for.

"Come on Clar, we are not here to think about that, we are here to sit in a boring conference filled with big over ego testical men who complain and bicker with each other like jack asses." Annoyance added color to her voice as she left the elevator. Mumbling more about how FBI men were the worst of them all. She was cut off when she stumbled back from a shoulder colliding with her chest. Her keen eyes caught sight of a light suit with a dark coffee stain on the front of it. Clara looked up into the eyes of the same man who had already shoved her today, her annoyance leveled up really quickly.

"It's You?!?" The gruff looking New York man exclaimed with angered surprise.

"Yes sir. I am the one who you have so rudely shoved not twice but three times today and to be truthful, I am really getting sick of it. Shall I have to dodge everyone around me today? Now, if you would please move, I have a meeting to attend to right through those doors and I suspect that my boss is waiting for me." Clara's voice held a hint of danger, but the man did not catch her drift as he wouldn't allow her to pass. The man's eyes finally widened in surprise. His voice no longer angered.

"Your Special Agent Jacobsin. Well, I'll be. I'm Doctor Grooper, best forensic we have in New York State," Clara scoffed at the speed of change in his voice one second he was angry and the next his pride is getting to large. Thoughts began to run through Clara's head. Oh My God! What and ego! I don't know one woman who wouldn't turn him down in an instant. Clara regretfully shook his hand and made her way into the conference room. As predicted her sense were tainted and clouded over with the smell, no the stench of cologne and battling egos, not to mention the tension in the air, so thick that not even a knife could cut it. For the next four hours Clara was to be stuck in that conference room, unfortunately her seat next to "the best forensic in New York State", finding her climate worse than being in the flames of hell.

Doctor Ansom followed Clara to the meeting sitting in at the coffee shop so conveniently across the street from her building and ordered some coffee and a croissant, sitting, watching and waiting. Four hours and four cups of coffees later, Doctor Ansom watched men file out and than Clara came out five minutes later. Doctor Ansom seeing her peak her head around the side wall, apparently looking out for someone and than he noticed the man from that morning. Clara apparently did not see him as she stepped out and sighed. Doctor Ansom watched as the man approached her anger filing him when he whispered into her ear and saw Clara's angered face.

Clara was over filled wit joy to leave the stuffy conference room. The hazy new york air was a breath of fresh compared to the conference room. She had been forced to sit next to Doctor Grooper who constantly bumped her thigh or let his hand slip to her leg. He would give her heated glances every few minutes and eventually she couldn't take it. Clara slammed her high heeled foot onto his and he yelped embarrassing himself in front of the director and his associates. She had tried to leave the building unnoticed but Doctor Grooper found her in the front outside. Doctor Grooper leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear, In what was supposed to be a seductive voice,

" You know Clara, I saw you looking at me in the conference and I feel the same way about you. Why don't you show me to your hotel room, we do have a few hours." Clara froze immediately, he had crossed the line she drew. Disgust and anger contorted her face and she turned to him and spat on his shoe. Her blood boiled and her green orbs were aflame.

"It's Special Agent Jacobsin to you. You truly think that I would go anywhere with no good rotten scum like you?!?!? You are a perverted ass hole and I don't know one girl who would actually get close to you, UNLESS SHE WERE A FIVE CENT WHORE, BUT EVEN THAN I DOUBT IT!!! Good Day," Clara turned and walked away, her eyes still ablaze and her face redden with the aftermath of anger. Doctor Grooper was left standing there his jaw dropped, if it could it would have hit the floor, the people around him snickering.

"Man, You just got schooled by a girl. You suck!" a passing teen yelled and laughed.

"I don't know why I covered this meeting for you Paul Sampson, you owe me a big one." Clara spoke calmly into her phone, entering the dinner across the street, unaware of Doctor Ansom walking by. Little did she know that Doctor Grooper was about to be in the worst state he had ever been in.


	3. Chapter three

**Dear faithful fans,**

** It has come to my attention that although many have read my story whether it only be the first chapter or all of them, that practically no one is reviewing. I would just like to take this moment to ask you to please review my story. You don't have to be kind to me if you don't want too, but i do accept constructive criticism, and if you think my story is missing something. I would love for you to tell me because these stories are for your entertainment, and so i would like to know what would make it more entertaining to you. Please try to take your time if you can and review, you do not have to but that is all i ask of you. **

**Now here is the long past due chapter three, i apologize for its short length and it's tardiness. **

**Now please enjoy,**

**EriksLittleAngel13  
**

**BODY COUNT: ONE**

Clara quietly followed two NYPD officers to the crime scene before her, an old run down motel on the outskirts of New York City. The sound of police sirens were absent but the other police officers on the scene whispering about an FBI agent on their crime scene wasn't and it gave Clara a headache. The flashing lights on the police cars didn't help the throb in her head either. Clara froze in the doorway of room 223, terror filling her soul at the horrid sight before her.

"Only a monster could do this," Clara whispered to herself the cop next to her hearing and nodding in agreement. Just the sight made Clara sick to her stomach, not to mention the stench. She had seen and smelt many things that were the works of a serial killer but nothing had urked her insides quite like this one. The air smelled of blood and dead flesh, followed by an odd musty smell. The room was hot and humid from the beginning summer air, and only fulled the putrid smell to grow and spread. The sight was what hit Clara the hardest. Before her sat the body of a man who she had just seen recently, Doctor Grooper was positioned to sit on the dirty motel bed. One of his hand was shoved down his pants, and the other one was missing from his wrist. His face was the horrid thing. His jaw was completely missing, blood poured down onto his lightly colored suit, drool mixed in with it. His tongue was also removed the jagged remains attached to the back of his mouth showed that it was forcefully removed, most likely by hand. His eyes had glazed over and turned pale blue from the touch of death, and they were wide open, despair and terror etched into each glassy orb. Clara turned away, the scene becoming to hard for her to handle. Clara left the room fast bumping into an intern or few from FBI head quarters. She could hear retching as one lost their dinner, most likely their first body to bag.

"This is sick!" another one exclaimed rushing into the room to quickly finish his job and be off. Clara looked up and was surprised to see the Director of the FBI standing before her and yelling out orders to everyone.

"I want ever inch of this motel finger printed. Look for hair and trace of evidence, and I want them within the hour." Clara gave a weak smile towards the Director who nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"Hello sir, What brings you here?" Clara questioned the Director carefully not wanting to be interrogative towards him.

"Oh, hello special agent Jacobsin. I was in town as you know and decided to stop by and see how the FBI works with the local police forces. In addition I need to have a word with a few officials." Clara nodded and walked away towards her comrade and friend for seven years, Christina.

"Nothing?!? How can there be nothing at all, this guy had to have left something behind that we could use for evidence?!? I want you to research this whole god damn place over again!" Her voice held frustration as she yelled at an intern who shrunk back fearing her wrath. Christina began to storm around crazily looking for any evidence.

"Christina, just calm down. You are not going to see any evidence when you are worked up and pissed off," Clara sighed the truth and added a flavor of annoyance to her voice.

"But there has to be something that we missed at the scene of the crime. We need to put him away for good." Christina was urgent with her voice and sudden jerky motions. Clara left her fuming comrade in the motel room, while she walked towards the scene barricades, a large group of people wondering what happened. She stopped before the group and told the police officers to step aside so she could see them.

"Excuse me, Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention. I am special Agent Jacobsin of the FBI, and I am sure that you are wondering about the current situation. So far there has been one death, and the details must be disclosed. We are still searching the scene for evidence. The details will be released to your local News stations once we have everything together. Thank You for your time and in a little while our director will be speaking with news casts when they arrive," Clara's voice was strained and ands stringed with tiredness. Slowly one by one people made their way back to their houses and vehicles, and that was when her eyes met his. Doctor Ansom waved at Clara and she gave him a weak smile in return holding up her hand in acknowledgment. They both turned away from each other at the same time and headed their separate ways, Doctor Ansom moving quickly with adrenaline and Clara walked slowly with exhaustion. Either unknowing that that their paths would cross again, only hope that they would lingered in the back of each others minds.

**please take a moment to review. I would really appreciate and use your opinions to make my story better. **


	4. Chapter Four PUT ON THE CASE

**Dear Faithful readers, **

**it seems that i am going through a little creative spurt right now even though it is past midnight. So, I have decided to post chapter four up too. This part is slightly gruesome, it describes a death, so if you are sickened easy maybe you should skip past the part that is after the OoO. Thank you for reading my story so far. Please review.**

**EriksLittleAngel13,**

**enjoy!  
**

**PUT ON THE CASE**

Clara woke up the next morning at eleven, by her phone ringing.

"Jacobsin," her voice dripped with sleep and rasp. Her head was throbbing even more than yesterday and nightmares plagued her the whole night. Dreams of Dead Doctor Grooper coming for her and trying to rape her and of her husband trying to kill her.

"Clara, it's Paul Sampson. Listen, I know you wanted to be in here by nine but you had a long night so I let you sleep in. The director phoned me while you were sleeping, he wants you in his office by two o'clock, got it?" Clara answered him with a simple yes and hug up the phone. She slipped out of her pillow topped queen sized bed and walked across the warm carpet. Her balcony doors were open letting in the cool morning air, that was soon to stale with humidity. A shower and a bagel later, Clara was in her Camry and making her way to the director's office.

Clara slipped into Director Papi's office. The air was crisp and chilled from an air conditioning, leaving goose bumps upon her pale flesh,

"Special Agent Jacobsin I presume?" His voice was ugly and held a nasty little rasp at the end of each word.

"Yes sir," Clara's on the other hand held a smooth coating with respect and a soft whisper. She sat in the chair across from the director's mahogany next, looking at the large Plasma tv mounted on the wall behind Director Papi, it showed the news about Doctor Grooper.

"I want to assign you to this new serial killer case. If I recall correctly you arrived at the scene instantly. I like agents who take things seriously. We have been informed of a murder in Italy with the same Mo as our recent body." Clara mused on how Doctor Grooper a well known forensic quickly was degraded to "our recent body". This reminded her that the FBI did not care about its employees at all.

"We want you at the head of this investigation." Clara sat dead still in her chair and nodded.

"Yes sir, I shall start right away." Clara stood and left the director, pausing in the door at his next words

"And Clara, your father would be proud." Clara nodded blinking back unwanted tears and left. She needed to get home and fast, she had a lot of work to do.

OoO

Doctor Ansom sat in his large apartment in New York City, a laptop before him. Easily he hacked into the FBI mainframe and pulled up Special Agent Jacobsin's information. Such precious things were so easy to get to on the internet these days. Doctor Ansom quickly jotted down her address In Holden, MA and shut down the computer. Memories interrupted his mind as he ate his own homemade soup. Making sure to leave some for later.

He had approached the crummy motel room quietly, slipping in unnoticed.

"Damn Bitch, I will teach her to defy me." His voice was crude and made Doctor Ansom's face redden with anger. His Clara was never going to be touched by this man again.

" I can assure Doctor Grooper, that you will never be seeing agent Jacobsin again, or anyone as a matter of fact. Now, say good night." Doctor Grooper had just enough time to turn before a damp clothe covered his mouth and nose. Doctor Ansom held Grooper in a death grip until he slumped against him. Roughly dragging him to the bed, Doctor Ansom took out his serrated knife and sat before Grooper waiting for him to wake.

About an hour later Doctor Grooper woke, sluggishly the drug still affecting him.

"Well, well look who is awake, the pig who takes advantage of woman. Hmm. Maybe we should get rid of your hand first. The hands that has touched my sweet Clara and is tainted with disgust. Doctor Ansom waited for a reply but only slurred sounds came from Grooper's mouth. Immediately Doctor Ansom Cut Grooper's right hand off his glove and clothing being splattered with blood. Grooper slurry cried out in pain and that's when Doctor Ansom took full action, he was on Grooper in a second, breaking is jaw and cutting it off. Lost in the crazed feeling of the kill Doctor Ansom ripped Grooper's tongue out by hand and climbed off the bed watching him drown in his own blood.

"Rid of the hand that harmed woman and the vulgar mouth that allowed such naughty speech to be spewed upon its listeners. Good Bye, "Doctor" Grooper, have fun in hell." Doctor Ansom quickly cleaned up rinsing the blood off of his hands and making sure the room was clean of usable evidence, that the FBI did not need to get their hands on. Quickly he left through the motel window jumping into his convertible and riding off, to wait and return once Clara arrived.

**Dear Readers,**

**Please take the time to review as your opinions and comments help to make this story better. Thank You as always.**

**The next chapter should be up soon.**

**EriksLittleAngel13**


	5. Chapter Five

HERE IS YET AGAIN ANOTHER CHAPTER TO MY STORY. THIS ONE SHOULD BE SLIGHTLY LONGER THAN THE OTHERS. THE NEXT ONE SHOULD BE OUT SOON. AND IAGAIN AS I HAVE SAID BEFORE PLEASE REVIEW MY STORY. OR EMAIL ME AT if you have any opinions or questions.

MUCH NEEDED BREAKDOWN

The key slipped into the lock swiftly, every jagged edge meeting its indent perfectly. Like two soul mates, meeting one another for the first time. But when the key turned, the lock groaned in protest. The key had to be turned to the right twice and than to the left, only than would the lock release the door and allow entrance to the mysteries behind it. The off white door creaked open, to reveal a small and narrow hallway. A coat lie forgotten by a small side table next to an old wooden staircase. The hard wood floor was worn and scratched, covered by a long rug with a simple flower design, to hide the abuse. The light pink walls of the hallway held few to no pictures leaving the homey feeling scarce. Along the end of the hallway stood two doorways. The hard wood floor continued on through the threshold of the door to the right, while a linoleum floor started after the threshold of the door straight ahead. Its pale blue and green pattern matting the light yellow tiled counter tops and the off white cabinets. But, she did not enter the outdated kitchen. She walked through the door to the right and her nostrils flared with the scent of her favorite flowers. Roses, their sweet aroma always seemed to calm her mind and body, but tonight it just fueled her memories. Slowly she walked towards the old beat up couch, which had seen better days, and collapsed on its surface. The television in front of her was off, the screen layered in dust from no usage, as was the mahogany stand holding it up. A side table stood next to the couch, a fish bowl sat atop it. It's round shape held a awe of perfection, holding a home to the small golden fish that hovered inside of it.

"I'm sorry that I haven't fed you yet Bam, I'm exhausted. I know that is no excuse and that I do this to myself but that's just it I don't know why. I need to catch these kind of people. This guy did a horrible thing and he is running loose and has the chance to do it again. He's doesn't deserve freedom," Her voice became hoarse as tears filled her eyes, looking like pristine crystals as they fell down her cheeks. A deep pain filled Clara, her eyes shadowing it. Her cheeks turned pink with the anger and pain that was like a current of electricity running through her body. She flung the case file across the room and slammed her face into the decorated pillow on the couch screaming and crying into it. She cried for her father, for the way that she had been working, for all the people that hurt her that day even though she was nice to them. Eventually her sad and sorrowful body drained itself of energy and she quickly fell asleep.

Doctor Ansom watched through the household window as Clara rode through her mixed up emotions and completed her breakdown. He studied her and finally snuck into her house stopping to study her more closely from the living room doorway. He had witnessed as she cried herself into a slumber filled with haunting nightmares and the looming shadows of past memories. Silently he strode to the old chair next to the couch and watched his secret beauty sleep. Even after her break down she was beautiful as ever. Her pale cheeks were red from crying and they glistened in the soft lamp light from tears both new and old. Her hair was ruffled and spread out behind her head, but there was one thing that Doctor Ansom noticed, the couch didn't look very comfortable. Carefully as not to wake Clara from her slumber, Doctor Ansom lifted her into his arms, one arms under her knees and the other behind her back. The touch of her skin against his awakened something deep inside of him, something he thought he had lost long ago. He began to walk and stopped when Clara moved. She rolled her head into the crook of his neck, and one word passed through her lips in a sigh,

"Doctor.." She held a sound of relief in that one sigh and her body relaxed completely. The Doctor climbed the stairs carefully and walked down the dark upstairs hallway to the room at the end. In the middle stood a queen sized bed. It's crimson sheets were spread out smoothly and a black comforter lay folded at the end of the bed. The black rug was checkered with dark red and purple hinting some deep orange designs around the edges. The balcony windows in the room stood open, the purple curtains swaying swiftly in the breeze. Doctor Ansom fully stepped in Clara's sanctuary immediately overcome with her scent and the heavy scent of roses. Carefully he slipped her under the covers and watched as she curled into a ball, and shivered from the loss of body heat. He too felt a shiver crawl across his flesh and felt a longing to take her back up into his arms. But, he refrained and quietly left the room after shutting the balcony doors. The next morning Clara began to wake…


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, so here is the next chapter. Than you to whoever reviewed this story. It was an anonymous review, so there for I do not have a person name. So thank you with all of my heart to whoever reviewed my story. As promised here is the next chapter.

P.S. Sorry for the delay of this chapter. I got grounded and my mom literally opened up my computer and took the internet card away for like a week. Plus I have been caught up in all sorts of school work, so if it is on the shorter side I apologize.

Please enjoy.

And as I always beg. Please Please Please Review. Thank you to those who took the time to. Enough of my gabber, below is the next chapter. Enjoy!!!

Her limbs stretched out not wanting to leave the peaceful bliss of relaxation, every fiber in her body groaning at the thought of waking and working. The soft silk sheets wrapped around her legs, entrapping her in its embrace, not wanting to give her up. The second her droopy eyes cracked open it hit her in the head like a ton of case files.

"How did I get in my room?" her voice sounding refreshed and soft, slightly quivering with unknowing fright. Memory failed her, as she pushed herself to remember how she got into her bed. The only thing that came to her memory was the remembrance of crying herself into a darkened sleep_, on her couch. _Slowly her eyes dropped. A blue FBI shirt and gray sweat pants/ Relief spread as she saw the same clothes on her body as the night before.

"Come on Clar, get a hold or yourself. You probably just walked up to bed and don't remember doing so, because you were dead tired." Light laughter echoed of the room walls, making the morning sun seem to shine brighter and the birds chirped louder. Her laughter was of relief and stupidity.

One last stretch and Clara was ready to go. Feet shuffled across the soft carpet, toes curling as they hit the cold hard wood floor. She followed her normal morning routine, changing into a different outfit consisting of a white FBI T-shirt and navy blue army sweat pants. Slipping on her old beat up running shoes and pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail, she made a memo to herself to stop and get new running shoes. Once the door was locked, she was off, starting her slow jog down the street. It was one of the mot beautiful Sunday mornings, the sky was clear, the breeze cool carrying a hint of warmth from the sun's shine. Clara listened to the melodic morning song of the local birds, only to be stopped by the not so melodic voice of her neighbor.

"Oh, Clar my dear. Isn't it such a nice day out?" her voice cracking like each syllable being whipped at the end. Her voice also held the sly wispy sound of a gossiper. Although Clara got annoyed by her neighbor sometimes, she was the closest thing that Clara had as a mother for the 15 years that she lived in that apartment.

"Hello Mrs. Stystid. Indeed it is nice outside, is there something I can help you with?" Her voice was soft trying not to show her want to get away and continue her morning jog before it was too late.

"Oh nothing dearie, just thought I would say hello. It isn't every day that I get to see you." Clara nodded and began to turn, about to jog away, when that same crackly voice stopped her.

"I was wondering who that man over your house was last night?" Clara froze, now her jog was definitely ruined. Every aspect of the morning seemed to darken the air became chilly the sky darkened slightly. Clara turned staring at the little old white haired lady in front of her. Thanking her for her nosiness, for once in her lifetime. She stared into Mrs. Stystid's paled green eyes.

"What man?" Clara asked urgency raiding her every movement and thought.

"Oh sweetie, the nice man that I saw pick you up from that back breaking couch and bring you upstairs to bed. I saw him through your window when I went to wave good night to you. He was so kind to help you out like that. After he came back down, he waved to me through your window and left in his car." Clara's annoyance towards the old woman dissipated when she heard the utter innocence come through.

"Mrs. Stystid, can you describe this man to me. I cannot seem to recall who it was who came over." Clara pretended as to not alarm Mrs. Stystid of anything or else all of Boston would know.

"Oh, it was dark out. I only saw his eyes, a nice almost illuminated pale blue. Such a nice, nice man. I hope you introduce me." Clara nodded and just left mrs.Stystid there, deciding to go jogging anyway, just to clear her thoughts.

Sorry that it is short. But right now I am overloaded with homework and projects. Please please please review and I will try and have the next chapter up ASAP!!!!

Thank you to all of my readers and all who have reviewed


	7. Chapter 7

**Dear Readers,**

**I have begged before, please review. I don't care if you just say good or bad. Something is better than nothing**

**Better yet just give me a rating of one through ten. **

**So here's the next chapter, and thank you to all who have reviewed my story or added me to your favorites or alert list. I am trying to get all of those numbers to go up! So those who have not yet, please do, it would be a great help if you did**

Chapter Seven

Hit and Die

Her legs pumped as her feet slammed against the pavement, trying to stomp out the thought of someone being in her house and touching her without her remembering. The sky turned cloudy and the bird stopped chirping. It looked like the forecast changed to rainy instead of sunny. Stopping at a crosswalk, Clara pressed the button jogging in place slowly and waiting for the hand to turn green. Once it did she jogged across looking both ways. The cars in front of her were stopped, and she waved to them. All of a sudden there was a loud squeal and Clara on instinct jumped up. She hit the hood with her foot, and slammed into the windshield of the car cracking it up the middle. She slid off once the car stopped and hit the ground not able to pick herself back up. Everyone in the neighboring cars got out and one person yelled to call an ambulance.

"Wait a minute people. I work at the hospital. Clear the way and let me have a look at her." Clara knew she recognized the sultry voice before and when Doctor Ansom loomed over her she gave him a weak smile. The lady in the nice looking car got out and looked at the damage. A large dent in the hood and a crack in the windshield.

"I hope you are going to pay for these damages lady, I just got this car a week ago!." Snooty and snobby she walked in front of Clara and stood hand on hip, and the original preppy blonde sneer on her face.

"Excuse me miss. But if I see correctly, you had the red light and should have stopped behind that white line back there. If you had been following the laws of the road this would have never happened. Now if you insist I will pay for the damages, just let me look at her first." The girl walked away huffing and puffing, getting on her cell phone to call the guy that she is using for money, her "Boy friend" to tell him what she did.

"Doctor…" Clara tried to stand, but she started to fall and Doctor Ansom rushed forward and caught her round the waist. Carefully he lifted her up and carried her to his car.

"I will take you to the hospital, as soon as I am done with this arrogant little girl. Please stay here, I think that you may have broken something" Clara nodded and watched as he walked towards the girl and exchanged information with her. When he slid into the cool leather seat in the driver's side, Clara was the first to talk.

"Doctor, you did not have to do that for me." Clara looked at him and he looked straight back at her.

"Do not worry about it. I can handle it and any way that lady cannot get a dime out of me. After all, she was the one who caused the accident. I am more worried about you getting to the hospital. That is my number one priority, not some ditsy blonde's car that she got out of her rich boyfriend." Clara nodded dumbfounded by the doctors remarks. Why did he care so much for her? Clara pondered that one question for the whole scenic ride to the hospital.

"Well miss Jacobsin, you have fractured the top of your foot slightly and your ankle bone. We will need to put a cast on there. Well, it is more like a brace, removable, but it also needs to be worn all day for a certain amount of hours. The nurse will be in shortly." The doctor left leaving Clara to sag her head in the presence of Doctor Ansom.

"Do not worry, you will only have to where the cast for six weeks. I once worked at a hospital in Italy, one of the best. With this new design of a brace, and with your job, you will be able to fully function and run, if you see the need to. Which I hope that you don't,"

Doctor Ansom was correct. Clara waited with him until she was called, and he helped the nurse put the cast on, his hand lingering over it, for just a little longer than usual but Clara did not notice. She was glad that she was still fully functional and able to do her job. On the car ride home, Clara and Doctor Ansom sat in utter silence. Each other wondering what to say and hoping that if they did say something, the conversation would not die out. Clara was mostly pondering the thought of where their relationship would go. Currently they were friends but would it evolve. She hoped that her current serial killer case would come to a close with a man behind bars, so that the relationship between Doctor Ansom and herself could move up another notch.

"Doctor.. I do not know how to repay you for what you have done…" Clara's voice held the up most gratitude and yet, Doctor Ansom still cut her off.

"I did only what I thought necessary to do. Although there is one thing. I would like to have dinner with you. Just a friendship dinner if you are already involved in another relationship or are not interested. I am curator of the new museum in the next town over, and I would love for you to come and take a look at it before it opens. Then maybe we could go out to dinner at this nice Italian place that I have recently discovered on the lake shore." Clara was surprised at Doctor Ansom's boldness and yet she was surprised at many things about him. She pondered for a moment and when he stopped the car at a red light and looked at her, she pretended to pull at her imaginary goatee.

"Well, Doctor. I think that sounds absolutely wonderful." She smiled at Doctor Ansom and watched as he smiled back, genuinely. His face lightened up and he laughed lowly.

"I will pick you up at seven thirty Friday night Mademoiselle. But for now, I must bid you farewell." Slowly he grasped Clara's hand and bowed down, placing a kiss on the back of her palm that sent shivers spiraling up the nerves in her arm.

"Thank you so much Doctor Ansom. I will see you Friday." Clara was about to get out of the car when Doctor Ansom leaned over and looked at her.

"Please Clara, call me Caleb." Clara nodded and waved as Caleb backed away, and drove off down the street. She felt all bubbly inside, feeling something that she thought she had lost capability of feeling long ago, love. She was in love and it made her as giddy as a teenage girl preparing for her first date.

Please review. I really need to hear about what you guys think. I apologize for this latest installment being so late. I was recently sick really badly and was unable to get out of my bed. So I wanted to get this up as soon as possible. Cheereo!


	8. Chapter 8 ACTUAL CHAPTER!

Chapter 8

"Christie, it is just a date. Why are you so giddy?" Clara couldn't believe or comprehend her friend's behavior. She couldn't figure out why one date was so important.

"Clar, when is the last time that you had date?" Silence reached Christie's ear and she scoffed obnoxiously at her friend. She felt bad, knowing that her friend avoided men at all costs. Clara had a lot to learn, but luckily she was going to receive lessons from a great teacher. "Clara, you don't remember when you last date was, because it was with Rick." She could hear Clara suck in a breath and let out its shaky equivalent. "You need to learn to understand that every man is not a serial killer, and they are certainly not going to kill you!" That is when she got the dial tone. Christie looked at the phone with disbelief. Never had she seen Clara do that to anyone, no matter how mad she got over the phone. Guilt consumed Christie after she placed the pink phone back on its pink receiver. She left her purple room with the keys to her beat up station wagon in hand. If the only way to get Clara to learn anything was to go over there and force her to listen, then she was going to do whatever it took.

Crack!Crack!Thunk! Clara lifted herself from the dining room chair and away from her glass of wine. She opened the door to find her friend Christie standing there, crossed and foot tapping harshly against the pavement like an angry snobby teenager at high school. Clara's lip parted breath sucking in to form her voice, but Christie's hand halted the process.

"Get your coat and whatever else you need, we are going shopping." Clara did as she was told. She would rather obey her friend than be dragged by the hair kicking and screaming. She knew Christie too well, and it seemed to be affecting her sanity, because she actually looked forward to shopping. She wanted to get out of the house. She stepped out of her house, locking both locks. The rhythmic thumping of her brace rattled through the quite night.

"That's annoying. It must stink to have that hunk of ugly plastic round your foot and leg twenty four seven." Clara nodded and climbed into the white station wagon, the sparkly dice hanging from the bent rearview mirror made her smile at the thought of their old academy days together. They were stuck in a tiny room with bunk beds, eating. She submerged her mind into the memories of better times, before they were ruined by events they are best left forgotten forever. Clara felt that everyday those awful memories resurfaced every moment they had. Any little thing that reminded her of Rick caused great sadness and even hatred towards whatever it was that brought up the memories. They should really be reffered as nightmares. Memories are happy and joyful, but those memories were not. They were horrid and ghastly, and Christie was right. Clara needed to understand that every man wasn't a serial killer, or are they?

Here's a quick one. I want to get more out soon.

I will give every reviewer a magical imaginary cookie, and all else who don't review get the burnt ones.

ERIKSLITTLEANGEL13


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine

Note!

Okay so, everyone is complaining that this story has nothing to do with Hannibal, but if you look at Doctor Ansom and Clara, they are kind of like Hannibal and Clarice. I will have Clara make reference to the movie in a later chapter just so people will stop complaining.

Thanks!

Chapter nine

Clara sifted through the endless racks of dresses looking for just the right one for her date. Purple fluff, no. Pink slick, no. red, no. Blue, no. She couldn't find anything, and her foot was getting sore. She turned to see if Christie was having any luck In this god forsaken place, and the most magnificent thing occurred. A beautiful black dress stood before her. She reached out to touch it and her fingers were great with lush smoothness.

"It looks like the dress that Clarice wore at dinner in the end of "Hannibal" Christie was astonished by the dress, and she looked at Clara in utter awe.

"You have to try it on, no matter the price, you have to try this one Clar. I think this is the one" Christie was ecstatic when Clara stepped out of the dressing room. Her curvy figure was accentuated by the dress, it hugged her body in just the right way. Her legs were slim and muscular looking perfect. The dress was made for her and she looked so sexy in it.

" Oh, Clara. You look drop dead gorgeous. You have to get this dress." Clara tried to act indifferent about the dress, but it made her feel so wonderful, and she couldn't help but smile brightly, and shine like a full moon surrounded by stars. The dress was expensive bout Christie managed to convince Clara that it was worth it, and they went in search of some accessories.

He saw her there. Standing in front of the store mirror. The dress was stunning. He smiled at the sight of her. It was the first time that he had seen her wearing anything that beautiful. Every single time that he saw her, she was wearing pants. He followed her and her friend to a jewelry store and he smiled when they left empty handed. They exited the mall talking like teenage girls do about a first date, and noticed that she only had a purse and dress with her. She never bought shoes or jewelry... It looks like he will just have to take up that task. Then he had to do something about that little snobby gold digger who hit his beloved with her car.

Here is another little one. Same thing, reviewers get imaginary cookies. If you add me to your alert list, you will be told whenever a new chapter is too! Please add me if this story interests you!

THANKS!

ERIKSLITTLEANGEL13


	10. Chapter 10

Clara stepped out of her Camry 05 wearing a blue and red, Red Sox baseball cap, a fitted blue tee shirt and a pair of ripped and stained jeans that hugged her curves. Her FBI identification clanged against the star-shaped locket around her neck, but it wasn't loud enough to drown out the obnoxious thudding of her leg brace on the ground. She slipped under the tape, and carefully got her body over the barricade without causing damage to her leg. Sampson stood about ten feet from where Clara was standing, his FBI pullover flapped against his well-chiseled body, as his shaggy blonde hair moved with the wind, gently swaying back and forth. He turned swiftly as Clara approached him, his blues eyes meeting hers and then scanning over the cast.

"I have to say Clara that I am glad it was only a fracture. We could very well have lost the best agent in the country." Clara smiled and nodded her head toward the scene.

"So Sam, what do we have here? Is it the same MO?" She let her eyes scan over the scene looking for anything out of place other than the mangled body in between the two cars.

"It is very similar. The tongue and jaw are missing, but it's cleaner than the last one." Clara moved closer to the scene of the crime, her eyes still scanning for something that the cops missed on their initial swipe, but all seem accounted for. The victim was pinned between two older cars, an older modeled Lincoln and a rusted corvette. The women seemed to be in the average height range, her obvious blonde died hair was matted with her own blood, and her clothes were soiled and torn. Clara could see that the apparent cause of death was not from the cars. Around the women's neck were purple and blue bruises and some rope burns from strangulation. Her face appeared to be washed and from only a few feet away, Clara got the underlying scent of lavender.

"Do a lift of her body at the morgue. She if we can't get a hair or something that can be used to identify the body. Also, try and figure out what kind of soap or perfume was used to wash and intoxicate her face. I can smell some lavender run a check through all of the lotion's stores and high end bathing stores. I have a feeling that this guy has a taste for high end things, looking at the type of car that he used." It was then that Clara took out her small LED light and shined it across the victim's face. Her eyes were open in a scream of horror and terror, just like the other. It was then that Clara recognized the person. It was the lady who had struck her with the car and caused her a fractured foot. Pale and shaking Clara stumbled to Sampson.

"That is the woman who hit me with her car yesterday morning!" Exclaiming the statement with a fear filled mind Sampson forced Clara to sit on the park bench. Speaking a few words into his phone he clicked it shut and looked at his long time friend.

" Clara. I don't think it's a good idea to work this case anymore. Look, I know you are going to protest to some degree, but you knew both of the victims and they both hurt you in some way, and now they are both dead. This could mean that the killer is after you Clara, and so I am putting you on a non negotiable leave of absence until we catch this guy. I want you to go home and think hard Clara. Do you know anyone who could have done this to you, or who may be after you? If you think of anyone, call me Clara. I am sorry that I have to do this but I need your badge and your gun." Clara handed both of them over before slipping into her car and heading home. While sitting at a red light, merely one street away from her home it hit her like the raging bullets that had struck the monster from her past in the chest, Doctor Ansom!

He was there when Doctor. Grooper rudely shoved her over and was extremely rude, and boom! He's dead, his body placed in a position that showed the type of rudeness he exclaimed toward Clara. Then Clara was hit by a car, and Doctor Ansom saved her, took the information from the girl, and boom! She is now dead simulating how she was rude, and the cars were symbolizing how she struck Clara. Clara understood why the women's face was so clean. He wanted her to recognize the victim and be forced into a leave of absence. It was that very moment that she went through all of the nice things that he had done for her, and how he was acted so sweet to her, but that was the key word, acted.

" Okay Clar, remember. You cannot assume or else you are going to make an ass out of you and me." She needed to reassure herself and push any bad thoughts out. Every thought that was speeding through her mind abruptly halted as she turned the corner to see none other than Doctor Ansom waiting on her door step in a nice suit and a bouquet of roses in his arms. Her mind screamed for her to turn around, but when he turned and waved in her direction flashing his perfect teeth, she knew that, that was no longer an option.

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**A/N: Thank you to all of those who reviewed. I know have electricity in my room, so I am able to start updating again.**

**Please review with a good or bad, or whatever you wish to say, so that I can receive some feedback.**


	11. Chapter 11

She pulled into the driveway trying to get control over herself. She could not give her information away no matter what. As she made her way to the door, she realized that he had gotten her, her favorite flowers. They were the most beautiful crimson roses that her eyes had ever seen. _How can it be him? He is so sweet and nice... No CLARA! This man is a serial killer! _Letting her mind go blank Clara greeted the Doctor.

"Hello Doctor." Clara's faltering voice caught the attention of the Doctor who quirked his left eyebrow up no more than a sliver.

"Hello Clara." He flashed another one of his flawless grins, and it was the first time that Clara caught something almost unreadable in that smile. Knowledge. _Oh shout. No No NO! He can't know just from a little stutter can he? _His smooth voice interrupted her thoughts. "I just wanted to bring these by for you, and I also have something else." Clara watched his hand very carefully, not noticing how his eyes watched hers and the small smirk that lit his face up when he noticed what she was doing. A thin black box was produced and Clara gasped.

"Oh, Doctor Ansom, you shouldn't have. I have done absolutely nothing to deserve this." Speaking the words as if she were in trouble for no reason, Clara took the box.

"On the contrary, you have, my little Clara. I was actually hoping that you would wear this gift tomorrow night on our date." Clara nodded in agreement before opening the box. What lay in that box almost caused her to drop it. It was a very beautiful bracelet that she was eyeing for two months now, and slowly saving up for, and she knew that it cost a fortune. It was a silver with an intricate rope like design for the actual bracelet and it held small diamonds in between the spaces that the rope created. At each end of the bracelet, there is a purple amethyst stone with an eighth note carved into it. Clara, forgetting what the Doctor was in that one moment, ran into his arms, smiling from ear to ear.

"Thank you so much, Doctor. I must admit that I believe I am forever in debt to you." He smiled and lowered his head to hers. He kissed her slowly and sweetly, taking his time to love and appreciate her taste, and the way that her body melded into his, unlike any other. Clara pulled back when her mind returned. _Oh my Gosh! I am kissing a freaking SERIAL KILLER!_ Quickly averting her eyes to his tie, Clara sighed gently. She felt his gentle fingers under her chin, but she didn't move as he lifted her face to his.

"I have to take my leave now Clara, but I will see you tomorrow." Kissing her once more, he left, leaving Clara stunned with a new piece of jewelry and her favorite roses.

oOo

Doctor Ansom slipped into his luxury Lincoln. He had her right where he wanted her to be. He knew that his little clue would reveal himself to her, but there was one thing that he was truly worried about. He would be forced to trust Clara and hope that she doesn't turn him in. If it came to that he knows that he would have to take her with him, even if she hated him. His freedom was still his number one priority, and he hated how he could only make a guess at what tomorrow night was going to bring. It was pure curiosity that drove him to that night, and it was all for her. Excitement filled his world when the thought of all the possibilities for the date and the things that the future could bring entered his mind. _I must be prepared for anything. Though my little Clara is very predictable at times. _

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**A/N: Suggestions and comments are welcome. Please hold on the flames, unless you have helpful advice. **

**The next chapter should be up soon, and I hope that you enjoyed this one!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I must apologize for the wait. I have finally been able to sit down and write. I have found time in between college visits, driving school, violin lessons, and AP World History reading/project to finish a chapter! The next few are written, they just need some tweaking and editing and they will be all set!**

**Enjoy and Review! (please)**

The map was simple, too simple. It had the main halls of the museum and nothing else. It was also the only map available. Apparently the owner wanted even the floor plan of the new museum to be a surprise. She slammed her mouse down and clicked on the contact page. She needed a map and would pull her authority if she had too.

"Hello, this is Wendy from the New England Museum. What may I help you with?" Clara could hear the woman's desire to hang up and sighed.

"Yes, my name is special agent Clara Jacobson and I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigations. I am currently working on a case that requires a detailed map of your museum and all of the hallways closed off from the public. Do you have the authority to do that?" Clara heard the click of a mouse and then an exasperated sigh.

"I am sorry Agent Jacobson but the only person who has the authority to release that kind of information is our curator, Doctor Ansom. Unfortunately everything is supposed to be kept a secret for the big opening but given the circumstances I am sure he can help you. Would you like me to give you his personal number?" Clara looked down at the bracelet upon her wrist and smiled.

"No. It is all right. I already have his personal number." Her voice was a little dreamy until she realized that the secretary had not replied and she quickly filled the silence, "Thank you for your help Wendy. I will be sure to give him a call. Please do not let him know that I called you if he asks, Okay?" She listened for a moment hearing only shallow breathing, hesitation. Clara hated hesitation. Hesitation revealed uncertainty and most of all, liars hesitated. Finally she heard Wendy's voice though it was quieter, higher pitched, and wavy; she was lying.

"Thank you Wendy. I will take your word and I would just like to put it out there, if under any circumstances Doctor Ansom were to find out that I called asking about this and something were to happen to me you would be held responsible for being uncooperative during an investigation, and they would consider you an accomplice to my murder." Clara put as much authoritativeness into her voice as possible and obviously it was convincing for Wendy sounded scared out of her wits when she replied.

"I completely understand Agent Jacobson. He… he will not be made aware of this phone call. Wendy glanced sideways at the door to the curator's office; no doubt he had already heard her speaking on the telephone. He could be approaching his door already prepared to question her. He had never been mean or cruel like her previous bosses but there was something about him, a dangerous glint in his eye, a bit of knowing in his smile that kept her in line. Whenever she had done something wrong all he would say is, "It is okay Wendy, just see that it does not happen again please," and she would see to it for sure. He was the most polite man she had ever meant and he almost greeted her with a smile, a wonderful smile, but his eyes were what unnerved her.

"Thank you Wendy, I highly appreciate it," and she did. The last thing she needed was for Doctor Ansom to know she was on to him and from her own mistakes. Clara shut down her computer and leaned back in the chair staring at her phone; once contact shown hauntingly on the tiny screen, Caleb Ansom. She knew she could not call him and ask for a map of the museum that was so detailed. He was to smart to believe that she wanted to know where they would be exploring. It was a stupid excuse and he would instantly know that she had figured him out. Clara turned and glanced at her fish bowl.

"Bam, why do I care? If he figures me out and tries to run I can just send the FBI after him? Why does my brain tell me to catch him and yet my heart tells me to do it myself? Do I want him to stay? Do I enjoy his presence? My mind is telling me that I hate this man and despise every aspect of him…. But he has been so kind to me, and that kiss….." Ding! Ding! Ding! The ring of her cell phone snapped her out of her reverie and she glanced down. The phone flashed a name, a name she had hoped wasn't there; Caleb Ansom. She hesitated and waited until the second ring to answer. She did not have to say a word.

"Hello Clara." His voice was suave and it sent a pang in her heart.

"Hi Doctor Ansom..." She could not come up with anything else to say.

"I have a small dilemma about tomorrow evening. My work will keep me at the museum later than I thought and I will be unable to escort you to the museum. I understand completely if you do not wish to dine with me now." Clara frowned visibly.

"Why would I give up a wonderful evening with a gentleman because a mere job obstructs our previous plans? May I meet you at the museum and we can tour it and then go to dinner a little later?" Clara could almost feel his smile through the phone and her own lips rose in response.

"What a magnificent idea, Clara. My work will be completed at promptly eight. Good evening Clara. May you have sweet dreams tonight." She heard the click of the connection and snapped her phone shut. The clock by her bed read 1:30 when she was finally ready to retire for the night. She slipped under the warm covers resting her head on a soft pillow and she dreamt. Her dreams were extremely sweet as well as a little steamy, and in them was Caleb, Caleb Ansom, her enemy per order of her screwed up morals and, according to her subconscious, her one and only soul mate, the bearer of her heart.


	13. Chapter 13

She sat in front of the museum dreading the fact that she did not tell a soul where she was. She was scared but deep down she knew this was going to be different. He wasn't like Ricky, nobody could be like Ricky. The museum leered over her. The dark arches and tall gargoyles seemed to taunt her, telling her the night she was about to begin would be one of the most terrifying ones of her life.

To her surprise the museum doors were unlocked. The heavy oak creaked as she slid inside, but they shut silently behind her. Odd, she thought, and then there was a distinctive click. A sound revealing she was trapped and if there was a feeling she hated the most it was that.

"Good evening Clara. It would appear that Wendy forgot to lock the doors again. We can't have anyone interrupting our lovely evening now can we?" He let slight darkness edge along his words and delight filled him as the shiver of fear and something else made its way through her body. He approached her admiring her ability to stand her ground as his eyes took in her beauty. In honesty he was a little surprised that she decided to wear the dress. It would be quite difficult for her to run in, but maybe that was a good sign.

"I see you wore that bracelet. May I say that you look absolutely breath taking this evening Clara." She tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she glanced down at herself, self-consciousness was one of her weaknesses.

"I am sure I would look a lot better without this god forsaken cast," For the second time in a matter of days she felt his warm skin envelop her chin and she felt the tenderness in his motions as he lifted her face. "The brace will be gone in little time Clara. It does not impede your beauty. I shan't allow anything like that to happen to you again special agent." She knew he had to be aware that she had figured it out. There was no way he did not, but should she admit it? "Would you like me to show you around? We have an exhibit that has yet to be opened to the public that I can give you a sneak peak of." She nodded trying not to flinch as she took his arm.

The exhibit was beautiful but immediately made her uncomfortable. The crosses and biblical paintings seemed to judge her, convicting her for her past decisions, condemning her for not believing. "Religion has played a big part in the history of the human race. I have quite a few contacts in Europe and I was able to borrow pieces from all over the world for the next month or so. We are planning on opening the exhibit next week, once we get our final piece. What do you think my little Clara?" _his? _Since when did she become his? The possessive term bothered her but not as much as the art around her.

"Honestly Caleb?" she sighed "they are all beautiful but I am not a believer in religion. I don't find them as captivation as most might. In fact they make me a little anxious." Her answer bothered him. He knew that she had a dark past, something or multiple things she had buried deep down. He had not expected her to let emotions show so early into their night. He led her through the exhibit quickly letting her thoughts wander as the silence settled between them. As they sat he gazed upon her.

"Why do they bother you so Clara? Why does the notion of God upset you?" He watched her posture change. Her spine tensed and her body quivered. He could feel the slight rise of temperature through the skin of her hand and see the flush cross over her face. "If God were real he wouldn't have done such terrible things to the people I loved. He wouldn't have done such terrible things to me, and he certainly would not have put me in the same room with you tonight." She gasped and met his eyes, hoping her rudeness would not bring out the anger she had glimpsed before and seen the result of.

"Now now Clara, you know better than to be rude." His scolding only fueled what little flame of anger had begun. She whipped around standing up and steadying herself on her good leg.

"How can I keep this going? I know what you did. What right do you have to tell me not to be rude when you have been taking people's lives for years? I didn't ask for this. I do not want this. This can't happen again. I won't allow it," she started to breath quickly and Caleb saw a flash of intense fear and anxiety in her face. Interesting. "You are going to stay away from me. I swear to you I will turn you in. If you plan to lay one finger on me I won't hesitate to kill you first." He expected her reaction, but what he did not expect was for her to bolt as soon as he stood up.

Stupid! Clara thought as she ran, her fight or flight reaction kicking in. She knew how to get to the exit from here, she just prayed there wasn't a back office path he would take to beat her, but that did not entirely matter. The air left her chest and her plastic cast caught on the entryway to the main lobby. She hit the ground hard her knees slamming into the granite floor painfully. She could hear his quickened pace and tears grew in her eyes. This was it, she thought, finally the end. One serial killer wasn't enough.

He slid his arms under her shaking form lifting her so her face was in his chest, and he let her cry. She sobbed even after he sat her in his lap, even after he rubbed her smooth back and injured knees, trying to easer away her pain. She cried as memories she forced deep into the back of her mind resurfaced. She cried as she remembered the terrible scar hidden by the dress, hidden by caked on cover up. "I would never hurt you Clara. I may eradicate the world of rude and disgraceful person, but I can tell even your rudest behavior is never sincere and is mostly deserved. You need your rest. You will feel much better once you wake from your slumber" His words were a blur to her as the pain in her foot and ankle increased significantly. So significantly that she could not feel the prick in her arm as Caleb injected the sedative. She looked up at him and his beautiful face as the stained glass ceiling of the museum lobby spun circles above him, like a twisted halo, and then the world melted away.


End file.
